HAUNTED
by TheGrimm
Summary: Ghosts, Mer Spirits, Immortals. Bella soon finds herself in a house full of secrets, when she and her younger brother Emmett go to live with their Aunt Alice, after their mother is arrested for drugs. Twilight with a darkened twist. Reviews welcome!
1. Eerie

**Prologue**

I forced my eyes open, the bright Arizona morning sun forcing it's way into the room. Pushing the matted hair from my face, I looked over at Emmett. His six year old cherubic face slept soundly, cuddled around Jasper, his small yellow kitten. Next to him was our mother. I looked at Victoria, her red hair as bright as the sun that pestered my eyes.

My mother was a succubus of a woman. The room we were in was dirty, and cold. Had it not been for my hooded sweatshirt Emmett would have frozen to death.

Soon, their sleep was disrupted, when police cars, loud sirens ringing, rounded the corner.

**Chapter One**

I looked begrudgingly at the old house as the beaten up old red car pulled us up to the front porch. It was painted white, with green shutters. There was a swing for two on the porch, and the rust wrapped heavily around the chain told me it had not been used for quite some time. Peyfield Valley had many houses like these. Old homes surrounded by woods and swamps. The south.

"I hope you guys will like it here," said Aunt Alice, "I've come to have a deep fondness for this house."

"It's...nice," I said.

"Oh, it isn't that big," laughed Alice.

"It's pretty." said Emmett from the back seat, his seven year old cherubic face gleaming at the building.

I immediately felt uncomfortable looking at the house. A sense of guilt pushed it's way into my lungs. Emmett and I were going to be practically living in a palace, while my mother was sitting in a prison cell.

Inside, the house smelled warm, like cinnamon. The living room was complete with a fireplace. A rocking chair sat next to the hearth, and a TV sat in the corner. beside the stairs started a hallway that went, ending with a backdoor leading outside. The wood floors were covered with many different rugs, all with some sort of complicated designs on them. Old pictures of people I didn't know hung on the walls, and green plants were scattered throughout the room.

It was nice. Almost _too _nice for me. I wasn't used to it at all. At any moment I expected a roach to scurry across the floor, or to almost step on an empty beer bottle Victoria would have left lying on the floor. Nothing seemed real. It all seemed to me like a really high tech hologram, and that someone was about to flip a switch and it would all be gone.

Alice turned a lamp with a rose design on, and the room was lit with a warm glow. It actually seemed like a home, not a place to sleep. This made me especially uncomfortable, and I shifted my weight to one leg.

Jasper began to squirm in Emmett's arms, and he jumped down, eventually escaping. He trotted over to the couch and immediately made himself at him, lying down on the arm.

"He likes it here already," laughed Alice. In my mind I thought of a million things to say, things to start conversation with, but I said nothing. The silence was deafening. Thankfully, Alice broke it with, "Let's go see your rooms, then."

She turned and started up the stairs, and Emmett followed her, me in the very back. Jasper watched us leave, then put his head down on the arm rest. The stairs creaked as we put our weight on them, and I was afraid with every step that we would crash through. But they were strong and held us up. At the top of the steps was a tall window. Outside of it was a view of the trees that started about twenty yards from the house. a door was at the immediate right. Across from it another door, and beside that another.

"This one is yours," said Alice to me, pointing to the door at the right, "This is yours, Emmett." She pointed to the one across from it. I opened the door to see a good sized room. A dresser was at my left, next to it was a large window. The queen sized bed sat parallel to the window, a large quilt that covered it. To my right was a vanity, on it sat a large plastic vase with fake tulips in it. I thought it gave the room a bright atmosphere, again something that I was not used to.

On the bed was about three magazines, all tops on the juiciest celebrity gossip. A lot of the stars on the cover I didn't even recognize. "I thought those might give you something to do," said Alice.

"Great," I said, trying my best to sound grateful, "Thank you."

"Bella!" I heard Emmett call, "Look!"

He came into the room carrying a yellow toy pick up truck.

"That's nice," I said, "Say thank you." "Thank you," said Emmett sincerely.

"You're very welcome," replied Alice.

"I'm gonna go show Jasper!" said Emmett, and he ran out of the room happily.

There was a short silence. Finally, I managed to break it with, "I like the room. Thanks." Alice smiled.

"There's some extra pillows and blankets in the closet if you need them," She said.

"Great. Thanks."

Before she left, she said, "Bella, you know I get how feel. You can come to me whenever you need to. Do remember she was my sister."

"Thanks." I said, and she left the room. How would she know how I felt? Her mother was a very religious woman, there was never a Sunday where they weren't at Church, at least that's what Victoria had told me. That was probably a lie too, just like everything else.

I was alone now, something I _was _used to. Throwing my bag on the bed, I immediately went over to the window and looked out over woods. Just below the window, there was a little bit of roof sticking out. Perhaps I could sit on it, if it were strong enough, then I'd have a place to hide when I wanted to be alone. Looking at it a bit longer, I could see it was too sloped for safety. I'd have to find a place, an oasis. I left the room, and went down the stairs. In the living room, Emmett had put Jasper in the back of the little pick up truck and was giving him a ride in it. Jasper looked up wide eyed, not knowing what to do. "Emmett." I began, "You're scaring him."

Alice was in the kitchen, preparing noodles for spaghetti. "Is it okay if I walk around the yard a little bit?" I asked.

"Sure," said Alice, turning from the pot, "Just don't got too far. And don't be too long, dinner should be ready soon."

As I walked toward the backdoor, Emmett asked, "Where are you going?"

"Out." I said simply.

"I want to come too," he pleaded.

"Stay here with Jasper, he needs you," I said. Emmett obeyed.

I slipped down two concrete steps then hit the grass. There was no porch or patio, nothing but overgrown yard. I began to walk toward the trees, the sun sending a golden haze over them. It was a large stretch to them, but when I finally reached them I could see it was worth it. It was shady, except for some streams of light that made it through the branches, and the ground was soft.

Before long, I came to a large pond. The water rippled slightly, but there was almost no movement. The murky water was eerie, and the way the grass waved in barely any wind around it was almost majestic. It was very serene, and I knew immediately this was the spot I could come. I sat down on the grass and leaned back, putting my weight on my hands. The sky above the pond was clear and blue, and I felt as if I were in a fairy country. About a week ago, I would have been in some shady neighborhood, surrounded by run down buildings and drug dealers, my mother's favorite place. But right now, I felt as if none of that ever existed. It felt like none of that ever existed. I waited for the hologram to turn off, but it didn't.

Slowly, I laid back and put my hands under my head. Puffy white clouds flew over head, and some took on strange different shapes. One cloud looked like an elephant, and it took up most of my vision. While watching it parade across the sky, my mind slipped into a calm reverie. I shut my eyes and enjoyed the peace.

"_Heeehhh_."

My eyes pulled open. What was that hissing noise? Sitting up, I looked around, expecting to see a snake. But nothing was there. The silence became deafening as my bowels clenched. Nothing.

Slowly, I managed to turn my head, where something odd met my glance.

About ten feet away, I noticed a large tree. Something was strange about it, carvings scratched into it. Slowly, I stepped toward the trunk where the word was written: LUCY. Who was Lucy? I stared at the deep carving for a long time. I wondered how long it had been there. It didn't look new at all, and moss was beginning to shroud it.

I felt something move over my right ankle. I immediately jumped up, afraid a snake had crawled over me, but there was nothing there. I looked behind me, and noticed how close I was to the water. Whatever it was, it must have gone in. I curled my nose, worried once again that I wasn't alone.

A sense of danger crept into me, and I looked around myself, carefully scanning for anything that might pop out. The tree tops began to sway as a strong breeze blew, blowing the hair in my face out of the way, parting like a curtain. Did I hear..._wind chimes? _I cocked my head to the right. Sure enough, wind chimes were sounding...somewhere.

As I looked about myself once more, I noticed something across the pond. Was it a house? I squinted, trying to see better, and saw that it was indeed a house. Trying to be careful as to not slip into the water, I made my way around the pond. Mud squished beneath my feet, a disgusting feeling to me.

I stared at the house as I moved, almost afraid it would disappear. Suddenly, I lost my balance and felt to the ground, cutting my arm on a fallen tree limb. I held it as it bled a small amount. It stung, but it was bearable. As I got nearer to the house, I could see how overgrown it was. Tall grass surrounded it, and weeds were sprouting up through the porch. It was one story, and a faded white color. The windows had no curtains, a large spider web sat just under the window sill. I debated whether I should go closer, suddenly remembering all of the horror films I have watched. Suddenly, my heart stopped. Someone, or something, was emerging from the house.

My eyes grew wide, and my heart began to beat fast. I wanted to turn and run, but I could not move. The door opened wide, and a man stepped out. He had dark red hair, a mix of bronze and copper, that was just long enough in the front to frame around his temple, and halfway down his neck in the back. His eyes were a golden brown, like a glass of iced tea when you held it to the light, a noticeable topaz ring around his iris. His skin was pale and clean. His expression was pleasant, and had a chin that looked as if it could cut a diamond. My fear subsided for a mere moment as I took in his handsome features, but it soon returned as severe nerves.

"Hello," he said in a smooth voice. I said nothing, but sheepishly bit my lower lip. After a moment he said, "Are you alright? You look pale."

Realizing how afraid I must look, I shifted my weight onto my left leg, hoping it would help to make me look more nonchalant. "I'm alright," I said, though my voice shook terribly, I was still in shock from his appearance out of the house. My mind flashed back to the many crazed serial killers in the movies, and I was afraid he would pull out a hatchet or a butcher knife at any moment.

"At first I thought I saw you come out of the pond," he said, "But you can't be a mermaid."

I forced a laugh, unable to think of anything to say. He looked like an adventurer, standing with his arms crossed and his feet apart a good two feet. He wore torn jeans and a blue plaid long sleeve shirt, which made me think of an illustration of Paul Bunion I had once seen.

"So, you must be Bella," he said. He knew my name?! I felt paranoia as I began to wonder if he knew me, and I was supposed to know me. "Your Aunt Alice's told me a lot about you." he continued. I felt relief calm myself. So he was friends with Alice. At least now I knew he wasn't a psycho...at least I thought he wasn't a psycho, "I'm Edward Cullen. Call me Edward," he said. There was another silence. There were lots of things I could have said, but I chose to be quiet. "Ouch," he broke the silence, "What did you do to your arm?"

I looked down at the arm I had cut. A small drop of blood trickled out. "Oh," I began, "I fell." He came down from the porch and stepped to me, taking my arm for a closer look. His hands were soft yet firm. Strong and gentle. "Yuck," he said, "Let me clean that up for you."

He led me up the porch and through the door of his house before I could protest. The house smelled like wood, which was surprisingly pleasant to me. On the left was a lumpy dark green couch, in front of it a medium sized TV. On the left was a small kitchen, which looked barely used. A round table sat in the center of the kitchen, with three chairs placed randomly around it. Edward walked over to one of the cabinets and opened it, revealing a lot of things in it such as flashlights, tools, and other things I didn't recognize. I looked over and saw a small picture frame hanging on the wall. A handkerchief was thrown over it, covering half of it. On the bottom half I could see the torso of a woman. It was old and black and white. I began to lift up the handkerchief.

"Here we are!" Edward said suddenly, and I dropped the handkerchief. Turning to him, I saw him pull out a little white plastic case with a red cross on it. He sat down at the table as I crossed over and joined him. He pulled out a brown bottle, and poured some of it's liquid onto a large cotton pad.

"You never know when you may need this," he said, "What with that jungle outside."

I forced a laugh as he took my arm. "This will sting a little," he warned, and placed the pad on my cut. I winced a little as a burning sensation reach my skin. "Sorry," he said sympathetically as I pursed my lips. "It's okay," I said, "I've felt worse."

"So, how do you like it here so far?" he asked.

"It's nice," I said, looking about myself at the room. He laughed.

"I meant living with your aunt," he chuckled. My face felt hot with embarrassment. _How stupid can you sound? _I thought to myself.

"Oh," I finally said, forcing a small laugh, "It's fine. A little big for me."

"Big?"

"Yeah. I'm used to three room apartments, and hotel rooms."

"I see. So, did you choose to come here, or what?"

I pursed my lips for a minute. Should I lie? He'd find out anyway. "My mother is...detained at the moment."

"I didn't mean to pry-"

"No, it's fine," I said, "She's in jail. Drugs, mainly.""Oh..." Edward said nothing for a moment, almost afraid to say anything else, "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's ok. I'm not embarrassed. This isn't the first time."

"You have a brother too, don't you?" he asked, and I could tell he wanted to change the subject.

"Yeah, Emmett. A half brother."

"Nothing wrong with that," Edward said as he took the pad off my arm, which glistened from the rubbing alcohol. He produced a bandage from the white box and fumbled with the wrapper. After he finally got the band aid out of the paper, he gently stuck it vertically on part of my cut. He produced a second bandage from the box and placed it on the other half.

"There," he said, "I think you'll make it now." His smile was a genuine toothy one. I smiled back.

"Thank you," I said, then I remembered that Alice was waiting for me, "Oh, I forgot. My Aunt is expecting me soon."

"Then you'd better go," said Edward. I stood up and headed for the door.

"Thanks again," I called back.

"No problem," he replied, "Come and visit sometime."

I said nothing more as I shut the door behind me. If I had said 'sure thing' then I'd have the obligation too, and if that didn't work out I'd seem rude, and I had no intention of saying no. I made my way quickly through the little bit of forest, passed the pond, and through more forest. The walk back up through the back yard to the backdoor was trying on my thighs, which ached up the subtle incline. As I entered the house, Jasper came sliding down the hall in the pick up truck. Emmett sat on the other end of the hallway, who had just pushed the truck. As the toy neared me, I scooped Jasper up and held him close. "Don't do that!" I said to Emmett, "You could hurt him."

"We were playing." he protested.

"I know you weren't planning on it, but accidents happen. He's small, be gentle with him." Jasper rubbed his head into my shoulder, a sign of affection. I handed him back to Emmett, "Hold him gentle. Pet him a little. Emmett stroked him as nicely as he could. Eventually Jasper settled, and shut his eyes. He began to purr.

"There," I said, "You see?"

Emmett walked down the hallway and into the living room. I entered the kitchen just as Alice was beginning to pour bubbling sauce over three plates of spaghetti. "Dinner is served!" She said, "I haven't cooked for more than one person in quite a while," she said, "I hope I did okay." I began to help set the table.

"What happened to your arm?" she asked, noticed the bandages.

"Oh, I cut it on a fallen branch," I said, "A guy fixed it up for me...Edward Cullen, I think?"

"Ah, Edward's a good guy." said Alice.

"He seemed so...The pond was kind of eerie though."

"Pond?" A look of worry crossed Alice's face.

"Yeah, there's a pond, just a little into the woods."

"Oh...I had forgotten it was that close," said Alice, "Bella, be very careful around that pond. Don't let Emmett even close. A lot of people have drowned in it." I thought she was joking at first, but her expression held nothing but the utmost seriousness.

* * *

I spent the rest of the night in my room alone. Unpacking was a very small task, as I preferred to travel light. I read through the magazines, hoping that perhaps it would help me to understand a bit more of what the other people were saying at school.

Oh, school, how I was dreading it! All of these people were friends and new each other. I would be the freak show. The new kid. It wouldn't be the first time, but it would be the first time in a long time. Nearly 3 years now. I had never been to high school, though. My senior year would be a great feat, I was so behind. Oh well, I had a whole weekend to worry.

Pushing down the quilt with my feet, I switched off the lamp next to my bed and laid in the cold darkness. After about ten minutes. The quilt came up around me. "Goodnight," came a gentle whisper.

I sat up, expecting to find Alice smiling at me. But to my surprise, there was no one in the room, the door still shut…and locked.


	2. The Boy And The Tulips

**Chapter Two**

We left the house around five minutes past seven, and began the long ride into town. I clutched my black backpack to myself. It wasn't truly mine, Alice had dug it up for me in her overstuffed coat closet.

On the radio, two guys were laughing and poking fun at current events and stupidity, but I couldn't listen, my mind was someplace else. Emmett sat in the seat directly behind me swinging his legs, and he every now and then kicked the back of my seat, "sorry," he'd say and continue to swing his feet.

Finally, we pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school. Emmett grabbed the white backpack that Alice had found for him, and slid out of the backseat.

"Do you still have your lunch money?" Alice asked.

"Yep," replied Emmett, "It's in my pocket."

"Alright," smiled Alice, "Have a good day!"

Emmett trotted into the building before she had even finished her sentence. I wished that I had only half of the eagerness and excitement that Emmett had. As we pulled out of the parking lot, Alice asked me, "Are nervous?" _Lie, _I told myself.

"A little bit," I admitted, not taking my own advice.

"You'll be fine. Just give it an hour or so and you'll find yourself loving it."

I could only hope for that much. Though it had been a while, I could still remember how much I had loathed school. Sitting in the back of the room, struggling to see the board, and getting completely lost. My mind went to Mr. Lucas, my least favorite teacher, who taught eighth math teacher.

"What _do _you understand?" he had asked me, frustrated.

"Nothing. I haven't been here for a week, I've been sick." That was lie, I was truly in a separate town, trying to help my mom find an apartment.

"That isn't my problem," Mr. Lucas had said bluntly and walked away. I haven't cared for education ever since.

The radio began to play a song. A female singer began an upbeat song about her boyfriend who kept changing his mind. I couldn't relate to it, but it seemed to help me feel better. As if it were calming me, making happier. I leaned over and turned it up a little bit. Alice didn't mind, as asked, "Is this your favorite singer?""I don't know who it is," I confessed, "But I'm liking it."

I surprised by how far away the elementary school was from the high school. We had been driving for five minutes, and hadn't gotten there yet. To my horror, I realized that it was on the opposite side of the town. What would I do, should Emmett need me? I could never get to him.

We began to turned onto main street, busy with early morning business openings. We hit a red light at every stoplight, and it was already eight o'clock. I didn't know what time class started, I couldn't remember what it was the last time I had gone to school, as I was normally late anyway.

"Here we are," said Alice as we turned a corner, "Peyfield Valley High."

The school was a large brick building with two sandy columns framing the large glass door. A large tree sat in the front yard, and the shade covered the entire front of the building. four stone benches surrounded the tree on all sides. A few students were sitting on them, and one sneakily lit a cigarette. There were other students, about eight or nine, that were making their way into the building. I looked out the window at them, and contemplated walking the opposite direction after I got out of the car.

"Good luck!" Alice said, and before I knew it, she wrapped me in a hug. I returned it tightly, finding that it calmed my nerves, breathing in her lilac scent.

"Knock 'em out of the water," she said playfully.

I slid out of the car and threw my backpack over my shoulder. A fluttery feeling tickled my stomach, and I bit my lower lip until it stung. Taking a deep breathe, I began to walk towards the building. Nobody looked at me as I passed them, yet I could feel a thousand eyes scorching me. My face was red, and I tried to get an "I don't care" expression on my face, but I knew that really I just looked like a woodland creature as a car lunges towards them.

Making my way up front steps, a boy with dark hair suddenly opened the door for me. "How's it going?" he asked pleasantly. I couldn't help but think was trying to be funny.

"Fine," I mumbled and continued in.

On the inside, the office was straight ahead, separated from the hall be a large glass wall. The receptionist sat at her desk, furiously writing something. A strong lemony sent stung my nostrils as I entered. Flyers and brochures flooded the office, and I found myself reading a "JOIN SPANISH CLUB" poster as I waited for the receptionist to look up.

After a moment she noted me and, smiling, said, "Hi, what do you need, hon?"

"Um," I mumbled, "I'm Bella Swan, I'm starting here today."

"Oh, yeah!" the receptionist said.

She spun around in her office chair and began shuffling among a bunch of papers. "It was here a minute ago," she mumbled to herself. Finally, she spun back around with a white folder, "Here we are!" she chimed in a sin-song voice. She opened the folder and handed it to me. "That has you schedule, locker combo, locker number, a map of the school, papers for your guardian to sign, procedures, regulations, and...yeah I think that's it. If you have any questions, just ask!"

"Thank you." I said sheepishly.

The first thing I did when I was out of the office was throw away all of the rule papers, leaving just the schedule, locker information, and map. I looked over my schedule, and cringed at most of the classes. English first, Geometry second, Chemistry third, U.S. History fourth, Art fifth, Gym sixth. Art sounded fine to me, I could easily paint random streaks and call it abstract, but I didn't know about the rest. Gym sounded easy, but I knew it would be embarrassing, never being the best of sports, let alone even like them.

I don't know how I made it through my classes. After mercilessly having my presence announced by every teacher, I sat in some empty seat and simply observed. I began wondering how I would manage when I actually had to begin to participate. English was difficult, having to follow along while the students took turns reading aloud from _The Scarlet Letter. _I tried to picture it all as a film or television show in my mind, but while I did that I got lost and couldn't find where everyone was at.

When the teacher asked if I wanted to read, I declined quickly, knowing it would be a disaster as I stupidly stumbled over the words and stuttered. I had to take the book with me so that I could catch up. At least I could now read at my own pace, however slow that would be.

I was completely lost in math. I had no clue whatsoever where to begin, and my mind felt like it was wondering in mist. I jotted down some random numbers and made up rules as I went. I knew that was wrong, but I didn't really care. If I could just appear like I knew what I was doing, then I'd be fine for right now. I only had to worry about being called on, but lucky I wasn't.

In chemistry, I expected to be mixing strange liquids and watch them smoke. Ha ha, how wrong I was. It felt like math, which I had just nearly killed myself trying to do in the previous period. I wanted to ask the teacher how to do it, but I remembered all of the people that surrounded me, and I didn't. I wanted to appear caught up with everyone, if not a little ahead.

No one said a word to me during most of my classes. In U.S. History, a girl with red hair and dark eye shadow asked me who I was. I told her my name, and as soon as I did, she turned in her seat and began talking to other people in whispers. They were obviously talking about me. I wanted to appear like I didn't care, but I honestly wanted to slam the girl in the head with my book and storm out.

Tears welled up just below the lids, but I forced them back down. I hadn't cried in a long time, and I wouldn't let something as petty as this start it. I wondered how Emmett was doing, and if he felt the same way I did.

Art was fun enough, and it was soon my favorite class. My teacher, Mrs. Cobb, was very welcoming and understanding. I had come on a good day, when the class was just beginning to paint still life on canvas. Mrs. Cobb pulled her easel next to my desk and made conversation with me. I told her about one of the apartments we had lived in.

"In college me and about six other people shared an apartment," she began, "This was during '69, so you can imagine how tripped up we were a lot of the time. It was so funny, because the basement of the building would flood whenever it rained. We'd set out empty match boxes and the roaches would get in them like little lifeboats." I laughed as a pictured a cock roach in a small matchbox, wearing a little sailor hat and hoisting a tissue sail on a toothpick mast.

"_Oh, my body lies over the ocean,_" sang Mrs. Cobb, "_My body lies over the sea._"

Gym was a travesty. I sat on the bleachers, trying not to draw attention to myself, and praying I wouldn't have to play anything.

Three girls sat five feet away from me. They all wore short blue gym shorts and a top with a witty saying on it. One of the girls had blonde hair, obviously died from the looks of her roots. She was very tan, almost an orange color. I had never really cared about a tan, and I realized how white I was as I looked down at my arm. The other girls were just as tan. One of the girls was the redhead in my history class, the other a brunette that I had never seen. They talked quietly to each other, and the brunette would every now and then pull out a cell phone and text someone.

A man began to approach me. He had an older look, and seemed as though he was athletic at some point, but his beer gut had taken that away.

"We're playing basketball, if you'd like to join."

"Thanks," I began slowly, "But I'd just hold you back."

The guy shrugged and walked away, I could tell that I wouldn't have any problems staying out in this class. I fumbled in my backpack, and pulled out the book I was supposed to read for English. I read the back so that I could get a feel for the story, but it only told very little, mostly harping on what a classic it was supposed to be.

I looked at the cover, which showed a woman holding a baby. She had a large red letter 'A' on her clothing, and in the background, heads were turned toward her. I felt slightly like her. I was barely three words in, when I heard a female voice say, "We don't do anything in this class, either."

I looked up and saw the girl with the dyed blonde hair, smiling at me. Behind her stood the other girls, with coy smiles on their faces. "I'm Lauren," said the girl.

"Hi..." I replied slowly. The girls sat down around me.

"So," said Lauren, "You're new."

"Yeah," I said. A lot of thing popped into my mind, but I said nothing.

"So, was your mom, like, shooting up when they caught her, or was she screwing a cop?"

"Excuse me?" I asked sharply.

"Well, she was, like, a hooker, wasn't she?"

"And who told you that?"

"Everyone knows it," said Lauren, "It was on the news."

I cursed the news stations.

"That's okay," said Lauren, "We don't choose our parents."

There was a pause.

"So how many people would she screw a day?"

Rage went through me. My fist flew out before I could stop it, plunging straight into Lauren's orange face, and she went flying off the bleacher.

* * *

I now sat in the office on a green cushioned chair, backpack clutched to me. There was still forty five minutes of school left, but I was being sent home early, "To get control of yourself," as the Principal had put it.

Staring at my feet, I moved my lips to the right, something I often did when waiting and trying to remain patient. I was afraid of when Alice would get here. My first day and I was already in fights.

"Hey, you're Bella, right?" a sweet voice said.

I looked up to see a girl standing a few feet away from me. She was a little chubby, her cheeks round. Her blonde hair looked natural, and it was pulled back in a pony tail. She had dark blue eyes and rosy cheeks. She wore a blue jean skirt that went down to her knees, and green button down shirt. She had a friendly smile.

"Yeah," I replied, "that's me."

"I'm Angela Webber," she said, "I was in gym with you. I saw what happened. I just want to let you know that Lauren deserved it. She's really mean."

I chuckled, "Thanks," I said.

It was then that Alice came in and frantically signed me out, "Hey Ramona," she said to the receptionist, and turned to me, "You ready?" I stood up and walked over to her, giving Angela a small smile.

We headed for the door, and out across the lawn of the school. The shadows had changed course and were know shading the front yard. Alice said nothing as we got into the car and pulled away. "Be honest with me," she finally said, "did the girl deserve it?"

"Somewhat, yes."

"Well," Alice began, "I'm not angry with you. You should defend yourself. But please, for mine and everyone else's sake, use your words next time, please? Promise."

"I promise," I sighed.

We drove to the elementary school. It had already been released for the day about ten minutes ago, and Emmett waited on the front steps. A lot of other children piled up on buses, or stood with teachers while they waited for their parents. Emmett ran to the car and got in quickly.

"Did you have a good day?" asked Alice.

"Yeah!" said Emmett, "It was awesome!"

"Good!" Alice laughed.

"Did you have fun today, Bella?" asked Emmett.

"You bet I did, bud." I replied.

"I think I love school," said Emmett happily.

"Great," said Alice.

_Well, that makes one of us, _I thought to myself.

I tried to be happy for him, but I was still too angry from gym. On the drive home, I cooled down a little bit, reminding myself that it was over for now. There was still tomorrow, but there was always the hope that tomorrow would be better.

That girl, Angela, seemed nice enough, and when I thought about it she had been in English, Math, and History with me, as well as gym. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, so long as I had at least one person on my side.

Later that night, Emmett and I were laying my bed. He had Jasper with him and he was stroking him gently. "Bella," began Emmett, "What's a..._whore_?" I sat up and looked at him with hard eyes, "Where did you hear that from?"

"School."

"And who said it to you?"

"No one," admitted Emmett, "I heard my teacher tell another teacher. She said that mommy was a _whore_. What is it?"

"You're too young to know." I said. Emmett opened his mouth to protest, "And don't go asking Aunt Alice, either." I warned him. "But what that teacher said was true...and don't repeat that word, or talk about it either."

"Okay," sighed Emmett.

"Now, lay down and close your eyes."

"Goodnight." he said.

"Night."

He cuddled up next to me, and Jasper snuggled himself between us. I stared up at the ceiling as Emmett's breathing become more spaced out and slow. It wasn't long before he had fallen asleep. I stood up and gently lifted him over my shoulder, like a sack of potatoes.

I carried him into his room and laid him down on the bed. I was afraid that I would wake him up if a pulled the covers out from under him, so I went back into my room and pulled out an extra blanket from the closet. I laid it over him, and he rolled on his side, pulling the blanket closer around him. After looking at his sleeping frame for a small while, I returned to my room, passing Jasper along the way. Shutting the door behind me, I crawled under the quilt and switched off the lamp. It wasn't long before sleep claimed me.

* * *

That night I awoke from a strange sound. I thought I heard squeaking, but when I looked around there was nothing...except in the corner. I could make out a shadowy frame. I dismissed it as a coat rack, but then I realized that I didn't have a coat rack in the room. I quickly turned the light on, my heart rapidly beginning to pound. Nothing was in the corner.

"Damn my eyes," I said aloud. Looking over at the alarm clock, I could see that it was 5:30 in the morning. I would have to get up in half an hour anyways. Pushing the quilt off, I waddled over to the vanity, my legs stiff. I could see that my hair looked like a rat's nest, piled up on my head in a loose pony tail. Taking out the band I began to brush, trying to work out the knots before I showered.

But then I noticed something odd. Another face was in the mirror. I turned quickly around and saw nothing. As I spun, my hand knocked against the plastic vase of tulips, sending it loudly crashing to the floor. My heart beat rapidly. After a moment, Alice rushed in. "What's wrong?!" She asked, holding her robe close to her.

"Nothing," I said, "I just knocked this over on accident."

"Oh," Alice said with relief, she let out a sigh, "You scared me," she said, and towards the door.

When she left the room, I still stood still, staring at the spot the face had been. My chest heaved from the fright, and I tried desperately to get more air in my lungs.

After I regained some nerve, I placed the vase back on the vanity, and began scooping up the tulips. But before I reached them, they picked themselves up and replaced themselves in the vase. I shut my eyes tightly, and when I opened them again, I expected to find it was just a trick of tired eyes. The boy appeared again, only a foot away.

He had frosty blonde hair, his eyes were the color of Bahamian waters. He was pale and his skin seemed smooth. He was very handsome and baby faced, and slender.

He stood, fully erect, and I could see he was almost a head and a half taller than me. I had to lean my head back to look him in the eyes. He almost didn't seem real, as if I could blink and he would be gone. I shut my eyes a couple of times, but when I opened them, he was still there.

Fear swept through me again. "Wh-Who are you?" I demanded, "How did you do that? What are you doing here? Who-I-uh," I couldn't speak anymore as all the words jumbled in my mind. His brow furrowed, and he looked at me a long while. Finally, he asked, "You can see me?" His voice was smooth like honey flowing down your throat.

"Yes, I can see you," I said, a bit annoyed, "Now what are you doing in my aunt's house?!"

"In all respect, this has been my house much longer."

"No it hasn't," I retorted, "No one else lives her."

"I..." he began slowly, cautiously, "I'm...not living."


	3. A Friend

**Chapter Three**

"_I'm…not living."_

Then he was gone.

The drive to school was just as long as the day before. The radio was tuned into the same station, and the two men that were talking were singing a parody of another artist's song. Yesterday I wasn't listening because I was so nervous. Today I wasn't listening because I was so confused.

Who was that boy? He couldn't have been truly there. He must have been a left over from some dream I didn't remember, and when I woke up I was still half asleep. But what significance did he have?

The memory of his eyes still pierced me, they were so blue. They made me feel as if he could see straight through me.

The more I thought about it, I realized his attire was strange as well. He wore a white button down shirt, with the top few buttons undone, as one might do under a lot of stress. His pants seemed old, and from the knee down were muddy. His black tie was loosened and tattered. He looked like a drunk that had just been in a bar fight.

I had to shove the thoughts from mind as the car pulled up to the school. I hadn't even realized that we had dropped Emmett off. The entire car ride was a blur. "Try to restrain yourself today, huh?" said Alice.

"I'll try," I said, sliding quickly from my seat.

As I neared the front door of the building, I heard a cheerful, "Hey, Bella!" I turned to see Angela sitting on one of the stone benches by the tree. There were two guys with her, one of them was the one who had held the door opened for me the day before. I went over to them quickly.

"Hey," I said with as much cheer as I could muster.

"Hi," said Angela, "This is Mike Newton and Kurt Johnson."

"Morning," said Mike with a smile. He was the one from before.

"Sup," said the other. He had jet black hair, his eyes were a deep green and shimmered like emeralds. His complexion pale, he seemed to glow in the early morning sun.

"Angela told us you really took Lauren," said Mike.

"Yeah," I began jokingly, "I really gave it to her."

"Takes a lot of bravery," said Kurt, "Welcome to the dark side." He extended his hand playfully and I shook it. I noticed a purple bruise on his wrist, but said nothing.

"So, is this temporary, or are you going to be here until you graduate?" asked Mike, and I could tell he was eagerly hoping for the latter.

"Open ended," I said, "Depends on a lot of stuff."

A small hint of disappointment shown in his eyes, but then they lit with satisfaction as he looked at the positive side.

"Do you like it here so far?" asked Angela in her friendly tone. She sat in the dead middle of the bench, hands clasped, like a Sunday school student. Mike sat slouched next to her, and Kurt had moved himself to sit on the back of the bench with his feet on the seat. They made a small group of misfits. One I joined when I found myself leaning against the trunk of the large tree."It's nice," I said considerately, but Angela could see the loathing expression in my face.

"It takes some getting used to," she said comfortingly, "but once you do, you'll like it a lot."

"She'll hate it," countered Kurt, "Trust me, you won't care for it much."

He was right. I hated it, and there were no signs of my views changing. Art was the only bright spot. I could manage English if it was mostly writing. I'd had a lot of practice, as I would often write letters to my grandmother whom I'd never gotten to truly meet in person.

The first bell rang, and Angela popped up, ready to go inside. Kurt slid over the back of the bench and was beside me before I realized it. We entered the building together, and I noticed Mike glancing back at me a lot, catching glimpses of me every few seconds. Kurt snorted when he noticed, "Mike is going to rape you."

"Thanks for the heads up." I said sarcastically.

"No prob," he countered.

I stumbled through my first four classes, only this time with Angela's help in some areas. _The Scarlet Letter _was still being butchered under my stuttering, and the countless people who had come up with math procedures were probably spinning in their graves right now. Einstein would have strangled me when I asked Angela who the funny old man on the poster was. My face was hot and red for four and a half hours of this pure torture, until at last the lunch bell rang. Sitting at a table and eat I could do. I hadn't gone to the lunch room the day before, as it wasn't on the map (which I'll never understand), and by the time I had found it, lunch was over.

Angela and Kurt escorted me through the lunch line. Self conscious, I ate only a small salad. After we paid they led me to a small table where Mike was already sitting. He stood up and held out a seat for me. I forced a smile and sat down.

"So how's your day so far?" he asked.

"She hate's it," said Kurt smugly, "Look at her face! She's trying so hard not cringe!"

He was correct, my face was trying to twist itself into any expression other than a look of disgust.

"I don't _hate _it," I said."But you don't _love _it, either," pointed out Kurt.

"I'm just not a school person." I said, shrugging.

The conversation turned to something Angela had seen on TV last night, apparently a commercial for a new movie that everyone was looking forward to, but I had no clue what they were talking about. I looked around the cafeteria. It was crowded and loud. Many definitive groups were outlined among the sea of people. Many cliques, all like a little village, or a club fair. One could put on the right look and sign up for any one them. But one stood out to me more than anyone else.

Lauren and the other two girls sat in the middle of the room at their table. A large athletic looking guy had his arm around Lauren, and other jock looking types sat with the girls that chatted and giggled among each other. Only about two or three of them weren't the dark orange color, yet there was something that made them all look the same. They each had a large sticker, like the kind you get at the doctor's office when you're little, on the top of the right cheek. Some had cartoon characters, others little sayings. Lauren's stuck out the most to me. She had one with a princess in a glittery pink dress that shimmered when she moved. I could hear part of their conversation.

"A bunch of celebrities do it for fun." said Lauren, "It's a growing trend."

Where my nerve came from, I would never know, but I stood up and walked over to her. "Aww," I began, "I'm really touched."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Lauren.

"I'm such a trend setter! My mother would be so proud." I said. Before Lauren could say anything, I reached over and ripped off the sticker. A purplish green and yellow bruise was there, sure enough. My fist had created a beauty.

"You weren't fooling anyone," I told her, "You have your talking monkeys trained very well. Have you thought of contacting Disney?"

"Bitch!" Lauren hissed.

I placed a hand on my heart, "Ow," I said, "Being called that a thousandth time hurts the hardest." Lauren rolled her eyes as I made my way back to my table. Kurt was smiling uncontrollably, he had enjoyed the show thoroughly. Mike and Angela looked at me in horror, but I could see a spark of attraction in Mike's expression.

"I love you!" said Kurt sarcastically, "Can I take you home with me?"

"I don't come with an instruction manual," I laughed.

Art made the day better. I chose to paint an apple for my still life, and worked on it while Mrs. Cobb painted next to me. She was painting a portrait of King Louis the XIV. She leaned back to get a look at it, then laughed and said, "He looks like the cowardly lion in drag." I laughed as she began to speak like the character, "OH, if I only had some c-c-courage, I could dress as a man!" We shared a good laugh, and I accidentally painted a large red streak across my white background. I would have to paint over it when it was dry.

Lauren wasn't in gym, and I reluctantly agreed to play kick ball. While I waited for my turn, I stood with arms crossed, weight shifted onto my left leg. My hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail, and the front part of my hair kept falling into my eyes. When it was my turn, I kicked the ball, but as I was running, my hair fell in my eyes and I couldn't see where I was going. I got out when I ran straight into one of the other team members who just happened to be holding the ball. I fixed my hair as I sat on the bench with Angela, who had gotten out a few turns ago.

After school, Alice picked me up.

"Yay!" She said, "You made it through a full day! Was it better?"

"Yeah," I said, "I guess so."

When we got home, I found Jasper sitting outside the door of my room. He stared, wide eyed at the door, and flinched at the slightest movement.

When I opened the door, he peeked in, then quickly ran away. As I entered the room, I could see why. The boy was sitting in the corner. "Oh God, I'm still seeing him!" I heard myself say loudly. He did nothing, but stood there. I began hitting myself in the head, trying to make me go away, but he did not.

"That's not going to work," he said suddenly.

"And why not?" I demanded. I couldn't believe myself, I was arguing with an imaginary person.

"Because..." he began, "I'm actually here."

"No, I don't think you are." _GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF! _I thought to myself, "Who are you?"

"I'm Jacob. Jacob Black."

"Jacob...what the hell are you doing here?"

"I can't go. This is my place." he said meekly.

"And how is that so?"

"Because, I'm a...ghost..."

There was a long silence. I stared at him in disbelief. My imaginary friend was lying to me. I needed help. Turning, I left the room and went next door to the bathroom, there I splashed cold water on my face, ice cold. After drying myself, I returned to my room, yet the boy was still there.

"Listen," I began, "You've had your fun, now go before I call the cops."

"They won't do anything," he said.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because they can't see me. I don't even know how _you _can either."

Before I knew it, I was rushing down the stairs. Alice sat on the couch reading the newspaper. "Alice," I began, "There's someone in my room."

I was mortified at the calm tone I had said that with. Why did this all seem so common? An intruder was sitting in my room. On my bed. He could be dangerous, or an escaped lunatic. And I was so rational about the whole thing.

"What?!" Alice asked.

"Come look."

I led her up the stairs. A look of horror was spread over her face. _Now I've got you, 'Jacob'._ I thought. We entered the room, "See?" I asked.

I could still see him, sitting on the bed. He wasn't gone. He waved with eccentrically at Alice.

"See who?" Alice asked me. Jacob laughed a smooth laugh, which annoyed me even more than if he had stayed silent. He was making fun of me!

"The boy!" I said.

"The boy?" She asked.

"He's sitting on the bed!"

"Bella..." Alice's voice was filled with worry, "...There isn't anyone there."

"She can't see me!" Jacob chimed.

"Shut up!" I commanded.

"Bella-"

"Not you, Aunt Alice," I said, "The boy!"

I looked over, and Jacob was still sitting there. How could she not see him?

"Bella, honey…" prodded Alice.

"But-" I began, but my words fell short.

"Bella, you need to lie down. I don't think you're feeling well."

"I feel fine," I protested, "I just want him out of my room."

"Bella, take a nap. Maybe you'll feel better."

She placed her hand on my forehead.

"Ooh, you are kind of warm."

I was warm with frustration. He was there, why was she acting like he wasn't?!

"Go lie down, and I'll make you some soup."

"I can't lie down, he's on my bed!"

Alice patted my shoulder comfortingly. There was no fighting it. As she left the room, I looked back at Jacob.

"Told you so," he said. His voice smooth, almost soothing, but it didn't help to make my confusion subside, "I'm a ghost," he continued, "boo."

"No, you're just my very tried and weak mind playing cruel pranks to get me to sleep." I said.

"Believe me," he said, "I'm dead."

A part of me believed him. What was even stranger, a part of me liked the idea. The idea of knowing a ghost, and actually to be able to talk to him. It was a confusing feeling for me to grasp, and it took a while for me to feel the naturalness of it.

"I don't want you to be afraid, or to feel watched, or any ghostlike things," he said after a long silence, "I...I would just like to be friends. We are roommates, after all."

Roommates. My room was haunted. _I _was haunted. By this friendly ghost boy that sat at the foot of my bed. I was tempted, and excitement welled inside of me. Things like this weren't that common, and my darker side delved into all of the possibilities.

"Friends?" I asked.

"Friends," he said, looking at me with nothing but seriousness.

"Hmm...I suppose that could work."

"Great!" he said pleasantly.

He stuck his hand out. Without think, I tried to grasp his, but my hand went straight through. I jerked back my hand quickly, afraid. It felt so cold passing through him. He laughed.

"We won't be able to shake on it. I suppose trust and the honor system will prevail, though."

"Honor system? How is someone supposed to outsmart a dead guy?"

He laughed at the bluntness of my question, even though I was being very serious about it.

"Well, I won't bother you anymore for today." he said.

He looked satisfied as he stood up, and nodded to me. And then he disappeared. I looked about myself in bewilderment, wondering where he had gone to. If he was still here and just invisible.

I slowly left the room, unable to stay in there another minute, afraid the floor would open up and some vortex would be revealed. Paranoia was not something uncommon with me.

Emmett was now downstairs, doing his math homework with a large fat pencil. He gripped trying to make the numbers clean and neat.

When I entered the kitchen, Alice was getting out a can of chicken noodle soup. "Alice," I began, "I'm fine. There was just a trick of the light." Alice shook her head.

"We'd still better be safe though," she said, "You never know when a harsh sickness is coming on."

"No, really. I'm okay. If I wasn't, I would tell you."

She still continued to make the soup, while I continued to protest.

* * *

The next morning, no one sat outside on the benches. I was ten minutes late to school. After I had finally convinced Alice that I wasn't sick or crazy, it was close to midnight. After that I found myself lying awake, unable to sleep. I waited for Jacob to show up, but he never did. I didn't quite understand the rules and regulations of our friendship. Was he to leave me alone? To visit? Did he watch me get dressed in the morning?!

I had to sign in at the office once I came in. "Mrs. Hammons wants to see you," said the receptionist, "Come back to me for a late note." I walked through the door that sat next to the reception desk and into the counselor's office. Mrs. Hammons, a middle aged woman with shoulder length brown hair, sat typing at her computer.

"Oh, hello, Bella," she said, "Have a seat."

Sitting in the chair that sat before her desk, I crossed my legs and sat up, trying to appear a little more dignified.

"The reason I wanted to see you," began Mrs. Hammons as she turned to me, "Is that I couldn't help but notice that you haven't really adjusted well here."

And here it came. Advice from someone I didn't care about, about something I couldn't care less about, and words I didn't even hear. She had a look of concern on her face, but I couldn't help but feel it was fake. Why should she care? She just wanted me to do better so the school's average would come out better. That held nothing for me whatsoever.

She continued, "You're very behind, and people are noticing a hatred towards one of our students." I knew she was talking about Lauren. "Now," she began, "You have a brother in elementary school. Emmett Swan, correct?"

"No," I said, "That's Emmett _Callaghan._" Mrs. Hammons looked at me in slight confusion. I continued, "We have different names because we have different fathers. Mine's somewhere on the other side of the country...I think, and I suspect that Emmett's was deported back to Canada, though I doubt he knew about his baby." There was a pause, "my mom isn't informative."

"Well..." I could tell she was stuck for words. Mrs. Hammons moved on, "That's...good to know. But, I'm worried about your education. Have you considered tutoring?"

"Oh, I can't do that.""Why not?"

"Because of a lot of things, okay?" I was getting frustrated.

"Name one."

Only one? I could name a hundred! But I said the one that was most important to me.

"I have to take care of my brother."

"That's what your aunt is for.""My aunt doesn't understand him. At surface he's a normal kid, but he has questions only I can answer." I explained.

"Answer them later." Mrs. Hammons shrugged.

"But-"

"-Bella, look," interrupted Mrs. Hammons, "I'm not going to make you do things, and I'm not here to make school miserable for you, but you really need to focus."

"That's impossible." Again, a look of confusion crossed Mrs. Hammons' face. I sighed, and said, "People like me aren't cut out for school. I have to hold my family together."

"It's understandable that you feel that way," Mrs. Hammons said, "But that isn't your job anymore. It's your aunt's. And your schoolwork needs attention...It's not where you're coming from, but where you are going."

After I left the room, I cursed the woman under my breathe. What did she know? She hadn't been through a fourth of what I had.

Why didn't people just leave me alone? That was all that I asked. I was sick of their false sincerity. They can have it! I was done with it. It disgusted me the way people said kind words to look good. I had never bought a word from anyone, and I wasn't going to by it now.

It was times like this that I was grateful to have a friend waiting at home for me...even though the friend was not technically alive.


	4. An Old Ghost Story

**Chapter Four**

As the days passed, I began to see more and more of Jacob Black. His company was a comfort, and I never felt alone. He was understanding and charismatic, and he reminded me somewhat of Edward Cullen, who I had not been able to see since he had doctored my cut, which had by now healed.

Every night after dinner, Jacob would appear in my room. I didn't know where he went, and I didn't feel it my place to ask yet. Though he was a ghost, he looked like a normal human, that is, until I reached to touch him, and my hand would go straight through.

He asked me many questions about my life, and I answered them all, in hopes that I would get some answer from him in return. But whenever I asked him a question about his past, he would look to the window and solemnly say, "That answer will come time."

He often told me how in time I would understand, but I didn't get how he couldn't just tell me. Eventually I stopped asking, telling myself that I'll know eventually.

The days became colder and much shorter. Most of my life was spent in the dark. I awoke in the dark, left for school in the dark, when I came home it was getting dark, and then I was up until midnight talking to Jacob.

Any daylight was spent as school, to my dismay. In order to cross through the pond to see Edward, I needed daylight, and I wasn't getting any. I probably seemed rude to him, but there was nothing I could do about it.

The crisp feel of October was in the air, and Halloween decorations were beginning to go up everywhere. Alice and Emmett made a scarecrow together, which they erected beside the front porch steps. Three pumpkins surrounded it, and Emmett could hardly wait to carve his. I couldn't help but feel a little excited as well, as I had never done so myself.

School was a chore. A long, rough, merciless chore. I had struggled through _The Scarlet Letter_ finally, but sadly I now had to read _The Great Gatsby _if I even hoped to pass English. Angela offered to help me, and we took turns reading.

When she realized what a poor reader I was, she suggested that I only read when we were together and she could help me through the words. I felt deep embarrassment, and almost refused the help, but I didn't want to put tension into our friendship, so I complied.

Angela was the first person I could actually believe what she said. She was something nobody else was. She was sincere. Kurt was the second one to come. He never sugarcoated anything, he said it bluntly and truthfully. His first name fit him very well. He could tell how I felt about something before I said a thing. He read me just like a picture book.

Mike was another story. He'd often flirt with me, and hint at a date. And though I always understand what he was getting to, I pretended not to notice. He would then think that I was playing hard to get, and proceed to try harder.

Everyday I looked forward to art. Mrs. Cobb always had new story to tell, or some sort of funny anecdote, which was always just what I needed from going through my other classes. She never tried to get me to open up, she was simply there for laughs, which I loved about her.

Gym was a slight bit better. Now that I had Angela, we could laugh at each other's lack of grace, and not care. Lauren was still their with her cohorts, but soon I had a better grade than her, as I actually began to participate, while she chose to sit on the bleachers and whisper.

Emmett would often draw me a picture at school, and I kept every single one of them. The first one he drew was of me, him, and Alice standing by the house. That one was hung on the refrigerator. Sometimes he would draw us, or an animal, and sometimes a car, or a cartoon character he had seen on TV the night before. He became better with every drawing.

"We've got a young Michael Angelo on our hands," joked Alice, and thanks to Mrs. Cobb's teachings, I knew who that was.

Life was starting to take shape. I was beginning to settle into my new home, and school, though it was still horrid, was slowly beginning to become bearable.

I could finally clear my mind and enjoy the morning radio show, and I found myself sometimes laughing out loud to the jokes. Every now and then they would play a song by that artist I had liked.

At night, Alice would check in on me often. Did I need more blankets? Had I done my work? Was I alright? After a while, Jacob began waiting until she had gone to bed to appear, just to be on the safe side.

Whenever he was near me, I could feel a cool breeze. This caused some confusion, because as it was October, every breeze caused me to turn around, hoping to see Jacob there.

I would recount my day to Jacob always, and he would often laugh at my child like excitement. I told him of Mrs. Cobb's stories, and Kurt's blunt remarks, as well as Mike's attempts at love, and Lauren's upcoming demise.

"You're going to kill her?" asked Jacob with surprise.

"No!" I said quickly, "She'll just suffer a bit." He relished in my wickedness.

Slowly, the door cracked open. Jacob disappeared as Emmett peeped his head into the room.

"What is it, Emmett?" I asked him.

"I have a question."

I held out my arms, and he trotted over to me and allowed me to pull him up onto my lap. "Go ahead," I said.

"…When is mommy coming home?"

I couldn't answer for a little while. Since Victoria had been arrested I hadn't heard from her, and I knew that I wouldn't until she was released. I never did truly find out how long she was in for. Did anyone know? I had no idea. We were the rats of the ordeal, no one cared to tell us a thing. I realized how long my pause was getting, and Emmett wanted an answer. I thought up something quickly, "Soon." I said, "Why? Don't you like it here?"

"Yes," he said slowly, "I love it here, it's just…" his voice trailed off, "I just miss my mommy."

I scooped him up and gave him a tight hug. "That's okay," I began, "But mommy may not be back for a long time. We'll just have to get used to being here, and look at Alice as a mommy for now. Can you do that?"

"I'll try." Emmett sighed.

After I held him a moment, I carried him into his room and tucked him in. "Now, you sleep well, and don't worry about mommy," I said, "She's like a lost puppy. She'll come home when she's ready."

"If she's like a lost puppy, then shouldn't we put up signs?"

"It's not quite like that," I said, stifling a laugh, "Now sleep tight."

"Where's Jasper?"

"I'll get him," I said, "Go to your room while I do."

I went downstairs where Jasper was sitting on the arm chair. "Come on, you," I said as I scooped him up into my arms. We was an indifferent kitten, and he nonchalantly settled into my arms as I carried him back up the steps.

As I laid him in the bed, Emmett rolled over, and was content. It was long at all before he drifted off to sleep.

Jacob was standing by the window when I returned to my room. "You're his mother," he said, "Mommy already is home." I realized how right he was. I had always been a mother to Emmett. Jacob actually understood.

A week past, and life was still going just as well, minus a few class struggles. It was a sunny Saturday, and afternoon sunlight streamed in. Jacob was going to appear early today, as Alice had decided to take Emmett on his first trip to the movies. They had tried to get me to come, and though I wanted to, I wanted even more to spend some time with Jacob.

I paced the room, boredom plaguing me, waiting for Jacob. _Squeak. _A loose board. Across the room and back again _Squeak. _Same loose board. Across and back. _Squeal, shhlough. _Rustling noise. Rustling?

I looked down at the floorboard that my foot was standing on. After looking at it a few more moments, I noticed that there were nails missing from the board.

Bending down, I lifted the board up. My eyes widened with curiosity. Below the floorboard were many, many papers.

I lifted the top one, which was seemingly blank. But when I turned it over, I found a picture on the back.

It was a pencil sketch of a girl. She had wavy bangs, and hard eyes. Her lips were in a hard thin line, and the smallest of clefts was in her chin. The drawing was…_me?!_

Shock fled through me and I dropped the paper. After gaining a bit more of myself, I flipped through the other papers, reading titles and names of numerous sketches and poems. _Ode to Bella, Bella Sketch 1, Moonlight Shrouds Her Sleeping Frame, Bella's Poem, Poem for Bella, Bella Sketch 2._

"You weren't supposed to see those yet," came Jacob's voice.

I looked up to see him standing there, looking down at the papers, the slightest hint of embarrassment in his ghostly face.

"What is all this?" I asked.

"…Just stuff."

"Just stuff." I mimicked.

Standing up, I began to pace back and forth quickly, trying to wrap my brain over all of these works.

"Wh-You-Wh-" I tried to say something, but nothing came. The one time I needed to be able to think a million things to say, I couldn't.

"It's not as strange as it looks," Jacob said.

"What?" I asked finally, "Jacob, you're…you're _obsessed_ with me!"

He didn't say anything, but looked at me in the eye, his brow furrowed. "It's…not and obsession."

"Then what do you call it?"

"A…fascination."

"Same difference!" I said, almost a whisper, and continued to pace, "I had no clue you were so…interested…in me."

"While watching you, I was so filled with thoughts of you that, I-I-I had to get them out on paper."

"Oh, you really got them out, alright."

"There's a reason that I was so, as you like to put it, 'obsessed' with you."

"Why is that?" I asked. I could see reluctance in his eyes, but I was going to get answers this time.

"It's complicated," he said, and walked past me over to the window, "It's very complicated."

We said nothing for a long time. As I looked at him, his back to me, I could see how uncomfortable he was. Imagine, a ghost uncomfortable. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back. I realized what kind of a hold I had over him right now, and that truly amazed me. I had made a ghost feel insecure.

He looked so pathetic right now, like a rare kind of insect under a microscope, my microscope.

"It's…" he stopped.

"Yes?" I prodded.

"It's really just an old ghost story." He turned and looked at me.

"That's okay," I said, smirking, "I believe in ghost stories."

He halfway smiled at me, and then turned back to the window. "It was the summer of 1935," he began, "And I was seventeen years old. Just as you are now."

He smiled at me, then continued, "Lucille Boothe was the jewel of my eye. She was the most popular girl in town. A siren and sin. Lots of boys wanted her, but I was the one that won her heart. She was a great beauty. Wavy brown hair, and sparkling green eyes. She had a pale complexion, and frame just slender enough to have curve, yet she was not bean pole thin. We were inseparable, and I was madly in love with her."

A hint of bitter regret clouded his eyes, but then he continued, "We could go for long bike rides down country roads, and would drive up to tip of the highest hill in town, and go parking together, and stay out until very late. That hill is where Peyton Valley High School sits now, I believe.

"Lucy was a great tease, and she would often taunt me with her talk of the other boys who would flirt with her. She was a shameless coquette. We would often have heated arguments, but five minutes later it would all be patched up.

"It wasn't long before we began to discuss marriage. Her parents detested, begging her to wait until she finished college. My parents too thought that I should wait until I was more successful before asking a girl to share my life. But we didn't listen, we were young and in love. Secretly, we were engaged."

He paused there. I wanted him to go on, but I kept quiet. I could tell that something was coming. He moved on.

"But I should have known better…One night, I was driving down the road, on my way to pick her up, and…" remorse filled his voice.

I could fill my face rearrange into a sympathetic expression. He pursed his lips, almost unable to go on. I waited as patiently as I could, not wanting to rush him. His eyes were distant, and when he looked up at me, the spirit in his eyes almost seemed to rise, but they were soon sad again. He took in a deep breathe, and continued on.

"I…was driving to pick her up, and…I saw a car, sitting in a little clearing on the side of the road. I thought perhaps their car wasn't working right, or something, and I thought that I could give them a lift into town, and they could-they could get a mechanic to help them…" As he trailed off, I didn't think he was going to continue. At any moment, I expected him to disappear. But he continued, "…So, I parked the car, and slid out, and walked over to the car…but when I got to it, I could see Lucy, in the passenger seat, with another man. They were locked in an embrace, and did not notice me. I didn't see the man's face, but I could see Lucy's, and it was filled…with the utmost pleasure." His voice had turned to disgust.

"Without a word, I got back into my car, and pulled away. I'll never know if they had noticed me or not. Angrily, I drove back to the house, this house. The pain and heartbreak was too much for me. The house was empty, so I went straight to my father's liquor cabinet, and busted it in with my fist. That's how angry I was."

He lifted his hand to reveal unhealed, ghostlike cuts on his right hand. I had never noticed them before.

"I drank myself numb. Yet I found it only made me feel sadder. I thought about Lucy, and how she had betrayed me. I called her many things. Many things that I would willingly take back if I were given the chance. But I can't do that now."

Again he became distant, and I remained patient as he was deep in thought. I found myself, too, thinking horrible things about this Lucy, for doing what she had done.

"I began to crash the bottles onto the floor," continued Jacob, "Smashing them wherever I felt like, hoping to relieve some of my anger.

"Once I had smashed all of the empty bottles, I had to restrain myself from emptying and breaking the remaining bottles. My knees buckled, and I went to the floor, landing in the shattered glass. It was if I had just smashed my remaining happiness. Smashed all of my dreams. I forced myself up the stares and into my room." He pointed at this floor, and I understood. This had been his room.

"Once I got up here, I realized that I was in great need of air. So, I went over to my hiding place," he nodded towards the place beneath the floor board where the papers were now, "And I pulled out my secret carton of cigarettes…a lot of people smoked then." He paused for a moment, I could tell it wouldn't be long before he ended.

"Then I grabbed my pocket knife, and I slid open the window," he turned to face the window, and slowly began to go towards it, "And I lit a cigarette, while sitting on the window sill. The night air helped to sooth me a bit, and my anger and sadness quickly staled into bitter regret. I took out the pocket knife, and cut notches in the window frame, something I did when I was angry." He felt up and down on the frame. Sure enough, there were deep notches. I didn't know how I hadn't seen them before.

"But before long, I could here my parents returning with their friends from a party. Quickly, I began to put out the cigarette, and I tried to think of excuses for the liquor cabinet. But in my confusion…I slipped, and slid down the roof. This roof," he pointed to the little piece of roof that I had stupidly thought about using for a getaway location, "And slid off, and down to the ground below, breaking my neck. I died instantly."

There was a long, long, deafening silence. I thought the story was finished. But then he continued, "I didn't realize I had died. I simply got up, and ran into the woods. I stayed their for two long hours, unsure of what to do. When I came upon the pond, I felt the presence of death overcome me."

I thought of the pond, of it's ghoulish atmosphere. Picturing Jacob by the pond, heartbroken, and recently deceased, made me realize why the pond had such a haunting effect.

"I drew out my pocket knife," continued Jacob, "And deeply carved the name 'LUCY' into a tree."

"I saw that." I said, remembering the carving.

"Did you?" Jacob looked sadly at me, then continued, "When I returned to the house, I went through the front door. I expected my parents to begin shouting and yelling at me. I waited for my father to take his belt to my backside, but no one said a word when I entered. They looked straight through me. My mother was in hysterics, and my father was very solemn. I kept saying 'What's wrong? I'll replace everything, I swear. I'll never drink again,' but they couldn't hear me. My mother tried to go towards the backdoor, but my father held her back. 'Don't go out there', he had said in his gruff voice, 'We need to call the police.' 'What's out back?' I had asked, 'the cigarettes? Those are mine.' and I went to retrieve them."

Another pause.

"And when I went outside, I saw it. My corpse."

He said nothing more for a long while. His blunt ending burned into my mind. Just the thought of seeing your own corpse sent shivers down my spine. It was now dark, and the room was very dim.

"Wow," I said slowly, the sound of my voice was creepy, I was so into Jacob's story that I had even forgotten what I sounded like.

"A couple of years passed," said Jacob, "My mother was very depressed. I wanted her so to move on, but she couldn't. Finally, my father made them move, hoping to help her forget for a little while. No one bought the house. The memory of what had happened was too fresh. As my parents shut the door for the last time, I stood in the hall beside the stairs. 'Mommy, Daddy, don't go!' I had said. I hadn't called them mommy or daddy since I was seven years old, and the sight of seeing them leave made me feel like a child again. I was alone, for the first time in my life. Completely isolated."

I pictured myself in the same position, watching Emmett leave forever. A tear rolled down my cheek, the first tear I had shed for a long time.

"The house was abandoned. Years passed. I hadn't seen a human being since my parents left. Eight years went by, just me and the quiet house. Then, one day in 1943, a vehicle puttered up the dirt drive. I ran to the front window, hoping to see my parents again. But they didn't get out of the car. It was Lucy. She approached the porch, looking up at the top floor windows, in amazement at how much the house had over grown."

I felt unkindness towards Lucy, wondering how she could show her face again, after what she did.

"She stood there, clutching her little purse, looking around at the house in bewilderment. 'Jacob,' she said, 'Why did you go?' I wanted to answer. To yell at her and demand why she had done what she had done. After a few moments, a man emerged from the car. He strutted towards Lucy and wrapped his arm around her waist. 'Lucy, baby,' he said, 'you've got to come on. We'll miss our train!' Lucy sighed and said, 'This house was once the home of someone very dear to me. I just wanted to officially say goodbye.' The man laughed and said, 'Well don't be forgetting, you're Mrs. Wilbur Norton now.' and then, she turned and kissed him. This pained me greatly to watch. Lucy laughed, and got back into the car with the man, and they sputtered away. I haven't seen her since. And I never knew if that man was the one I had seen in the car, or some other victim in her web of deceit."

The tone of voice he ended his story stayed with me long after he was finished. It was bitter, yet romantic. Sad, yet forgiving.

"That's…terrible," were the only words I could manage. Once I finally regained my land legs, I walked over to the lamp and switched it on. I squinted as the bright light flooded the room, as if the house lights were coming up in a theatre after a play.

Jacob looked out the window, sadness still filling his eyes. I wanted to touch him, to hold him and tell him it was okay. But I knew, that would never be possible.


	5. White Light

**Chapter Five**

I held some of the papers in my hands, looking at each of them thoroughly. The drawings amazed me. The realism of them was overwhelming, and the talent behind them was almost unreal. Mrs. Cobb's knees would buckle if she saw them. And the poetry was utterly beautiful. They were written with sheer brilliance, and they captured the essence of my emotions and personality. I was surprised at how well he knew me. It was all so touching. My mind became numb as I read it all, everything that surrounded me did not exist. As I finished the last page, the feeling did not go away. I laid the paper on top of the rest of the stack, and neatly organized them to line up. When I had finished I looked up at Jacob with large eyes.

"Simply genius," was all I could mutter. He said nothing, but smiled.

I looked over at the clock. According to it, I had only been reading for twenty minutes. But it felt like hours, perhaps even days. Jacob knelt down to me and looked me in the eye. "Do you understand now?" he asked, a hint of pleading in his voice. I nodded once, unable to speak- not _wanting _to speak, for fear of all the feelings I felt would go away. The rush of feeling loved, and feeling a special connection, the feeling that some large puzzle came together before your eyes. I stared into Jacob's eyes, feeling as if I would drowned in the clear waters of them. It was then that I realized it. I was with out a doubt in love with Jacob.

Reaching my hand out, I reached for his shirt collar. My hand went through it, and sadness crept into my feelings. I had forgotten that feeling him was impossible. I wanted so much to touch him, to wrap my hands about his neck and kiss him. But I knew that could never happen. He wasn't real. He wasn't alive. He was a ghost.

He stood up off the floor and sat at the foot of the bed. Looking down into the hole in the floor board, I traced my finger around the edge. It was the rabbit hole, and I had fallen down it. Jacob sighed as if he couldn't think of anything to say. It was up to me to break the silence, something I was _not _good at.

"What is it like being a ghost?" I asked suddenly, not looking up through the hole.

"Very lonely," he said slowly, "It's like living with no voice whatsoever. No opinion. Like when all those people moved in. I wanted so much to demand they get out. But how could I? I was dead, and had no say."

"What's the point of even being here, then?" I asked rhetorically.

"I've asked that myself many times," he answered, "I've wanted to pass on many times, but then I realized...everything happens for a reason."

I looked up, finding he was staring at me intently, a small smile on his lips. A large smile broke on my face, but I pursed my lips trying to sustain it, "And do you believe that?" I asked.

"Without a qualm," he said bleakly.

"I think I do too, now," I agreed.

Slowly, I stood up and sat down on the foot of the bed next to Jacob. I could feel the breeze that surrounded me, and I greeted it wholeheartedly. I looked over it him. He sat straight up, hands on his knees, staring intently at the floor.

"Where," I began, "Where do you go when you disappear?"

"Sometimes I just become invisible to you," I said, "Unwilling to show myself."

"And...other times?"

"Other times," He said slowly, "I retreat into the Mid World."

"The Mid World?" I asked in confusion.

"Have you ever read a book or, seen on television, where people are about to die, and they talk about a white light?"

"Yes."

"Well, sometimes that's the other side. But, sometimes it's the Mid World. Where people linger until they move on. Most don't realize they've died. Some are struggling not to. It's just a large white space. Nothingness. I can go in and out of the Mid World at will."

"Is that how ghosts are made? Going to the Mid World?" I asked. Jacob said nothing for a while, gathering his words.

"It depends." He said. After he said nothing for a while, I thought that was the only answer I would get. But then he continued, "A lot of types are in the Mid World. Some dawdle within it, but then move on to the afterlife. Some linger in it, but then go back to life, and live. Some are there for eternity, and they are mindless, like machines. Whether you become a ghost or not depends on your death. I never went to the Mid World when I died. I got up and walked on, thinking I was still alive. Some people come back as ghosts because they are still living. I think that was my case. But others come back to settle things unsaid, or undone. Some hang on because they subconsciously refuse to accept it is time to go."

"And," I began quickly, "How do you pass on?"

"You never do," he said, "I'm a damned soul, Bella. Doomed to wonder about my dwelling for eternity."

"'Dwelling'? So, you can't leave this house?"

"I can't leave the grounds. I don't exist beyond this property line."

"You're captive here, for eternity?" He looked at me, but said nothing, "So, if Earth eventually disappeared…"

"I'd be in a blank space." he replied.

I looked out the window, where it had began to sprinkle a small bit. The smallest of raindrops slid down the window. I shut my eyes for a moment, and pictured everything a different way. I pictured the window open, with hard rain splashing in onto the floor. But I didn't notice, as Jacob held me, kissing my throat gently. When I opened my eyes, I found it the same as before I closed them. It was slightly depressing to see this, but having Jacob even there help to ease it a bit.

"So," he began slowly, "tell me about your life."

I chuckled a little bit. Never had I been asked that, "It's a long story," I said.

"I just covered seventy four years," countered Jacob, "I'll think you'll be fine." I smiled, and looked at him with a 'you think you're funny' smirk.

"Alright then," I said, "Where to begin."

"Start at the beginning," prodded Jacob.

"The beginning. Alright then. My mother conceived me on the job...if you know what I mean." Jacob's nod indicated that he knew exactly what I meant. "For nine months, she at least _tried _to quit smoking. She _did _make it without booze and drugs, thank God. Then I was born. I had no clue about what birth had gotten me into until I was 6 years old, when Victoria brought home 'Uncle Nick'. He was mean to me, telling me to get lost in the worst of ways. When I asked Victoria why she let him stay, she yelled at me, telling me I wasn't her boss. She's always felt a need to justify herself to me."

"It's your personality," Jacob said suddenly.

"My personality?"

"I don't know what it is," he began, "you just have a quality about you. An energy that seems to make people want to please you. You're subconsciously commanding them."

"Thanks, but I really don't think that's it," I protested, "If that was true, then I wouldn't have any problems with Lauren."

"Lauren is used to being in charge," Jacob began to explain, "she feels threatened."

Thinking about it, I realized that it made sense, and that pleased me a great deal. I forgot what I was saying, and went into deep thought, realizing how people did in fact seem to want to please me. I was brought out of my reverie when Jacob suddenly said, "Go on." I thought of what to say next.

"When Emmett was born, I was eleven years old. Alice took care of him, mostly. She saw that we always had food, clothes, and shelter. If we didn't she would always find a way to provide them...she still does that."

"I can see that," said Jacob.

"When Emmett turned three, we moved to another town, and I didn't see Alice again, until now of course. I was fourteen at the time, and took care of Emmett now. I had to pick him up from his day care and make sure we was clean and fed. Victoria would work late at night, no wonder. She would go missing for days at a time, and return with a new boyfriend, one that she pledged she would pay for. They never knew about her profession, nor did they really know about me and Emmett half the time, I tried to keep him and I away from anyone that Victoria brought home."

"I've noticed you call your mother Victoria, why is that? Does she make you or-"

"I don't view her as my mother." I said bluntly. Jacob was silent, and I could tell he felt stupid for asking that question. "You didn't know," I comforted.

"One day," I continued, "She brought home a new boyfriend, Rick. She had dropped the 'Uncle' title for a while now. Rick was quiet around me and Emmett, but he wasn't quiet behind closed doors. Fights and arguments between him and Victoria could be heard throughout the apartment. One night in particular, it was extremely loud. Emmett was hungry, and the cabinets were empty. So, I went through Rick's coat pockets in search of money. What I found was cocaine. He was stupid enough to leave it there. Here, I saw a golden opportunity. Not only would this get Rick away from Victoria, but Emmett could be safe from him as well. I called the police, and turned it in. I didn't realize they would arrest Victoria, too."

"I'm sorry about that," sympathized Jacob.

"You know, I'm kind of glad she was." I said, as I began to realize a lot of things about it.

"Why is that?"

"I don't know, it's just that...everything happens for a reason."

I looked at him sheepishly, and he smirked at me again. I wanted again to hold him. To feel his flesh beneath my palm. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder and feel his arms wrap around me, holding me as if he were afraid to let me go. I wanted so much to walk with him arm in arm, to go places together, to have people look at us and say "aww" to our young love. But it could never be, which is why I decided then that I couldn't love him. If I was to keep my sanity, I would have to deny my feelings. I had to be careful to never so much as utter the word 'love' anywhere near him, if at all. It could not be. We would just be very good friends.

And suddenly, I felt it. The love feeling was gone, and in it's place was friendship. It felt genuine. Not forced like the love feeling had. My heart beat rapidly as it tried to handle the sudden change of feelings.

Jacob's sad eyes looked down at my hand, and I knew that he too felt the same way. He wanted to take me in his arms, and hold me as tightly as if he were a statue clutching a rag doll.

The sound of a car came to my ears. Alice was home with Emmett, and he would be full of stuff to tell me. I stood up and began to walk out. I stopped at the door, and looked over my shoulder, "Thank you for the story." I said, almost a whisper, and walked out. As I shut the door behind me, I bit my lip to fight back tears as a hallow sense of emptiness over took me. I shook my head from side to side ferociously, trying to shake the feeling out of me. Once I had regained myself, I went down the stairs.

Emmett rushed in, "Bella!" he said happily, "You should have come with us!"

"Did you have fun?" I asked, hoping that I sounded eager enough.

"Yeah! It was awesome! The TV was SO big!"

"Awesome!" I said.

"I'm gonna go tell Jasper!" cheered Emmett, and he hurried up the stairs. Alice stood in the doorway, looking at me with both knowledge, and worry.

"What's the matter?" asked Alice.

"Nothing," I said as indifferently as I could.

"You look like you've been crying." She prodded.

"I haven't," I said, and thought up a lie, "I've been sitting out back, and the cold air's been getting at my eyes."

"Oh," said Alice, but I knew that she wasn't fooled, "I want to show you something."

She went over to the fireplace, and took a large red binder from the mantle. I had seen it there many times, but never thought to look at it. On the front was a homemade label that read '**ALBUM**' on it in bold letters.

Alice sat on the couch, and patted the seat next to her. I sat down on it, and leaned over, trying to get a better view of the book. She flipped to the back. "Look," she said. there were two photos on the page. One was of a very small girl, about two or three. She had short, curly brown hair, and a smirk that was very I found very familiar; it was me in the photo. Below was a small boy who I knew immediately was Emmett. After I looked at it for a moment, Alice flipped the page, and I knew we would be going through the family tree backwards.

"There's me and your mother," she said bitterly, pointing her finger at a photo of two small girls, both laughing and happy. It was strange to think that Victoria had once been a normal little girl. Alice flipped the pages through family parties, and gatherings, as well as just candid snapshots. I saw my grandmother and grandfather, young and happy. The photos became older and more worn as we went on, and people became more unrecognizable. Eventually the photographs were in black and white, and were very tattered.

One of the last photos was of a girl, in her twenties or thirties. Though the photo did not have color, I could tell by the shade of black that she had brown hair. Her face structure was like that of all the women in my family. She was tall and slender, with a sense of grace about her. She had a small smile on her lips, like the _Mona Lisa_. "Who is that?" I asked.

"Oh, that's my grandmother. You're great grandmother."

"What was her name?"

"Lucille Mildred Boothe Norton."

A rush went through my mind. My heart leapt wildly. My eyes widened and my heart beat wildly. The blood flushed from my cheeks almost instantly. Lucy. Jacob's Lucy. She was my great grandmother. We were linked. Related. Jacob's fascination in me had a reason. We looked almost exactly alike.

"Are you alright, Bella?" Alice asked, "You're very pale."

"What?" I realized where I was again, "Oh, I'm fine...can I take this to my room and look at it a little more?""Of course."

I was surprised at how quickly I ran up the stairs, almost flying. I ran into my room and locked the door behind me. Jacob was sitting on the bed, and looked up in surprise as I entered.

"Have you seen this?!" I asked, holding up the red binder. He shook his head. "You've lived here seventy four years, and haven't looked at it?"

"I may be a ghost," he said, "But I'm not a snoop."

I pursed my lips. He didn't know. Hurriedly, I opened the binder and flipped to the second page where the photo was. "Look at my great grandmother." I said, and tossed the open binder on the bed. He leaned forward and stared at the photo. He said nothing, or did nothing. At first I wondered if he recognized the woman, but then he looked up at me. His eyes no longer had the sadness in them. It was pure shock. Quickly, he pushed the binder away and it flew to the floor.

"Are you alright?" I asked stupidly. But it was too late. Jacob had disappeared. Worry filled me. "Jacob?!" I called out, "If you're still here, please do something to let me know." ...nothing. Not a flickering light, not a crashing vase, or a breeze. Not even a creak.

Leaning against the door, I sank to the ground, unable to breathe. He had gone to Mid World. And something told me he wouldn't be back for a while.


End file.
